


i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

by dialecstatic



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dom!Jeonghan, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, M/M, POV Alternating, Smut, Sub!Seungcheol, Trans Character, because i do what i waaaant, cheol machine broke, i guess, i'm so sorry mr pledis, jihoon is a good friend, trans man!jeonghan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialecstatic/pseuds/dialecstatic
Summary: seungcheol really likes jeonghan's choker.jeonghan wants to find out how much.





	i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

He hadn't stopped throughout the entire event. As the other members diligently answered questions and cracked jokes, Seungcheol had been transfixed by the strap of leather around Jeonghan's neck, playing with it, twisting it between his fingers, pulling on it, and delighting as Jeonghan's face contorted into the slightest frown when he felt the tug on the nape of his neck.  
  
Jeonghan couldn't believe it. He tried to keep his hands to himself, suppress the urge to just grab Seungcheol’s wrist and squeeze just the way he knows how to when Seungcheol steps out of line. But they’re in public, and this isn’t how things are supposed to go. It’s not that they keep away from each other in front of the world, far from it, but they’re not supposed to know exactly what kind of arrangement they’ve got going on. And especially, Jeonghan fumes internally, they’re not supposed to think it’s Seungcheol calling the shots. He might be their leader, strong and reliable, but if people could see him as only Jeonghan gets to see him, their opinion would be fast to shift.

 

He’s not one to expose his personal life and desires in front of a crowd, though, so Jeonghan just breathes in, breathes out, gives Seungcheol a look, the one he’s mastered in their months of playing this game, and when the mic is finally being handed their way, Seungcheol is finally sitting in his own seat instead of half in Jeonghan’s lap, his hands kept firmly to himself.  
  
___  
  
When they're all gathered in the press room, waiting to be picked up, Jeonghan storms through the door, bag slung over his shoulder, making a beeline for Seungcheol.  
  
"Choi Seungcheol you little..."  
  
"Hey!" Jisoo cuts him off, more than aware than when Jeonghan is as flustered as he is in that moment, he doesn't exactly think before speaking.  
  
Jeonghan presses his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, inhaling sharply. The air in the room suddenly feels too hot.  
  
"Seungcheol. Pack your bag and get ready." He turns to address the rest of the group. "We're taking the first car."  
  
Seungkwan perks up from where he's slouching on Hansol's shoulder.  
  
"But I don't want to miss my drama!!"  
  
"I don't want to miss this drama." quips Soonyoung, ducking instinctively right after.  
  
Seungcheol beams up at Jeonghan.  
  
"You got anything special in store for me?"  
  
"You bet I do. How dare you."  
  
Jeonghan's tone is dry, almost frighteningly so, and still the leader is smiling.  
  
"I hoped so." he says, his voice too light for the obvious tension.  
  
In the far corner, Mingyu turns to Jihoon, who is tapping away at his phone.  
  
"Does Seungcheol have a death wish or something?"  
  
"Nah," Jihoon laughs, shaking his head at the scene. "He knows exactly what he's doing. The further he pushes..." he mimics an hourglass being tipped over "...The more he receives."  
  
Mingyu buries his face in his scarf. He's heard Jeonghan and Seungcheol enough through too-thin hotel walls to be able to piece together what Jihoon means.  
  
__

  
"I should spank you." is the first thing Jeonghan says, through gritted teeth, when they walk through the front door of their apartment.  
  
"Don't mind if you do." is what Seungcheol replies, still pushing his luck.  
  
Jeonghan's eyes go dark, not from anger but something else, something coming from a deeper place.  
  
"But I'm not sure you even deserve my hands on you."  
  
The words have an immediate effect. Seungcheol's cheerful expression drops, and he swallows hard, aware that he's pushed the game to its limit.  
  
"Drop your bag. Go wait for me in the bedroom."  
  
Seungcheol complies without a word.  
  
When Jeonghan joins him, he's holding the choker in one hand, and it dangles from his fingers like a promise.  
  
"You really like this thing, uh?" he says, walking towards the bed in slow, calculated steps. "Let's see exactly how much."  
  
Seungcheol closes his eyes, and he feels cold touch on his neck, skin and leather, as Jeonghan fastens the accessory around it, loose enough that it won't strangle him, but tight enough that it will definitely hurt.  
  
Seungcheol hopes it leaves a mark.  
  
Jeonghan experimentally tugs on the strap once, twice, before yanking it, bringing Seungcheol tumbling down from the bed and on his knees on the floor.  
  
"Quite the leader you are."  
  
It's always been like this. In front of the cameras, Seungcheol is the steadfast, headstrong leader, the one everyone looks up to. In private, he's the one looking up, usually to where Jeonghan has his eyes fixed on him, every part of his body and mind aching for Jeonghan's touch, for his words, as harsh as they could get. Seungcheol isn't sure when he'd started finding pleasure in that, in being at Jeonghan's mercy, when his soft eyes can get so cold and his tongue so sharp. But he does, and now, after a long day, on his knees in front of Jeonghan is exactly where he belongs.

 

Jeonghan scoffs. Seungcheol feels his throat get tighter.

 

“I wonder what you were thinking.” his voice sounds sweet, almost nauseatingly so. “I know you like to show off but don’t forget who makes the rules around here.” Jeonghan hooks a finger under the choker, his second knuckle bumping against Seungcheol’s Adam’s apple. “And who enforces them.”

 

He tugs at the leather, Seungcheol letting himself be tipped forward. “Do you remember?”

 

“I do.” is all Seungcheol can muster, his breathing coming in short. It’s not the choker, no, rather the anticipation building up in his gut and making his heart race.

 

“Hm?” Jeonghan lets go, grabbing a fistful of Seungcheol’s hair instead, pulling just enough that he remains in complete control. “Who is it, then?”

 

“It’s you…” he exhales shakily. “ _Sir_.”

 

As cold and detached as he always tries to be when they do this, Jeonghan can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh at the word. More than the control, more than the expletives, it’s this simple word that sends him on a power trip every time. A word that he had been denied for so long, people refusing to see him as such, to accept him as he is. He’d scratched and clawed his way through, becoming more himself each day until people could not deny him anymore, had to make way for the man Jeonghan always knew he was.

 

The word is a mark of respect, the very thing Jeonghan had been after his entire life. When it falls out of Seungcheol’s perfect lips, directed at him with the utmost reverence, Jeonghan can’t help the hairs that stand up on the back his neck, the smile that forms on his face, the softness he’s usually known for peeking through, even in his dominant headspace.

 

Jeonghan shakes his head. He has time to be soft later, when they’re coming down from the high. Now, softness is not what either of them wants. He knows that, because Seungcheol is still looking at him, his lips slightly parted to aid his erratic breathing, his hands tucked away behind his back like he’s awaiting orders.

 

He is.

 

“Good.” Jeonghan walks closer, forcing Seungcheol to strain his neck so he can keep his eyes fixed on him. He visibly shivers when Jeonghan uses two fingers to tilt his chin as high as it can physically go, wincing as he feels the pull of skin being stretched, but still, he smiles.

 

Jeonghan looks down, hair framing his face like a halo, and if Seungcheol had any right to speak he would tell him, right then and there, that’s he’s the most beautiful person Seungcheol has ever seen, that Seungcheol will never be able to find words to accurately express how thankful he is that he gets to be here, like this, at his beck and call, molded by his delicate hands and his sharp tongue. He would tell Jeonghan that he’s a God, and that he’s grateful just to be allowed to worship at his altar. But there’s a time for words, and this is not it. Seungcheol knows exactly that words have a different weight in this room than they do in the rest of the world.

 

So he doesn’t say anything, because he knows he’s already said too much.

 

Jeonghan drags his fingers up and off of under Seungcheol’s chin, extending the strain and burn for a fleeting moment, reveling in the empty moan that escapes the other man’s throat.

 

“Let’s put that insolent mouth of yours to good use.”

 

He shimmies out of his jacket, throwing it on the chair in the corner of the room, but his shirt stays on, and Jeonghan doesn’t miss the way Seungcheol’s eyes follow his every movement, waiting for the piece of cloth to come off as well.

 

“Ha. Do you think you’ve earned that?” Jeonghan scoffs, running a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes. “Do you really think you even deserve to look at me?”

 

Seungcheol’s shoulders tense, and he drops his head, expectant.

 

“Look at me.”

 

He does.

 

“This is as much as I should give you.” Jeonghan’s words cut through the air. He stifles a laugh when Seungcheol whines in spite of himself, the fear that Jeonghan might actually leave him there at the foot of the bed with nothing to show for his troubles visible on his face.

 

“God. You’re so needy. So desperate.”

 

Seungcheol closes his eyes.

 

“But at least you know your place.” Jeonghan says, merciful for once, as he reaches for the hem of his pants to push them down. His eyes stay on Seungcheol the whole time, reading his expression, not missing the shift in his eyes and the way he licks his lips when the pants and boxers come off. Jeonghan knows how much Seungcheol wants to reach for him, to touch him, and it makes his blood pump faster. He’s actually getting excited, as used as he is to this by now, because no matter what he still loves Seungcheol like it’s the first day.

 

“Down, boy.” he orders when Seungcheol shifts his knees like he’s trying to stand up. He cradles Seungcheol’s head in his hands, the soft hair at the scalp already matted with sweat, and wonders how he got so lucky to have such a good, obedient, and gorgeous man in his life.

 

Sure, he gets mischievous sometimes, but Seungcheol had never been anything but the respectful submissive, even when they were just trying out and falling into fits of giggles at their own situation. Jeonghan had been less sure of himself back then, and Seungcheol was still determined to keep up appearances even in the dead of night, so their encounters were more awkward roleplaying than an honest to god dynamic. When they fell into the swing of it, it became clear this was as much about release for Seungcheol as it was for Jeonghan. An escape from the weight he carries, from the responsibilities of leadership, a headspace where he can be guided instead, his own desires laid out in front of him by Jeonghan’s capable hands.

 

It works for both of them, and the other members never judged them for it. Makeup artists cussed at the inexplicable marks, Jihoon quickly sweeping in to excuse it on Seungcheol being a ditz before he or Jeonghan could blubber out an even more grotesque lie. Wonwoo had asked about it, once, and left in the middle of Jeonghan’s response. He’d always been soft-hearted, after all. The worst of it had probably been Minghao and Junhui, exaggeratingly imitating them when they shared a bedroom wall during promotions, complete with Minghao making whipping sounds with his mouth. Jeonghan had just laughed it off and knocked at the wall in acknowledgement, happy that this was the way they responded to it rather than reporting them to hotel staff (which a very tired and annoyed Jisoo had threatened to do once, hair sticking out uncharacteristically, which he blamed on the night of no sleep he got thanks to his bandmates).

 

Jeonghan shakes his head, tries to pass it off as once again chasing the hair out of his face, and refocuses on the situation at hand. He can feel Seungcheol’s breath on his skin, air slipping in hidden places and making him shiver in anticipation.

 

“Tell me what you want.” Jeonghan sighs out, barely a whisper, but he knows it must sound deafening to Seungcheol’s ears.

 

Seungcheol’s eyes are bright, already glazed over by tears. It’s not pain, but need, just the way he gets when he’s this close to what he truly wants.

 

“You.” he says, his lips nearly touching Jeonghan’s thigh, and Jeonghan knows it’s taking all of Seungcheol’s willpower to not just nuzzle against the skin and tender flesh. “I want you. Sir. Please…”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

“Ah... Jeong- _Sir_ , please, let me…” Seungcheol struggles to find words. Jeonghan wonders what his heart rate looks like right now.

 

“Well, out with it. Where did your confidence go?” he spits out, finding where the choker rests on the nape of Seungcheol’s neck and tugging without mercy.

 

“ _Ahh_ …” Seungcheol hangs his head, tries to even out his breathing so he can speak but only ends up making it worse because Jeonghan is not letting go of the leather strap. So he relaxes his shoulders, lifts his chin so his eyes eventually meet Jeonghan’s.

 

“Please. I want to use my mouth on you, Sir. Let me… Let me show you I can use it for good, too.” he blurts out. “Please…”

 

He’s almost begging at this point, squirming where he’s kneeling. Just as Jeonghan taught him. And how could he refuse such loyal obedience.

 

So he presses his fingers into Seungcheol’s scalp, gently but firmly guiding him where he wants him.

 

“Go ahead.” is all Jeonghan has to say when Seungcheol clearly waits for the green light, his gaze fixed on the man above him. It’s all it takes for Seungcheol to heave a sigh of relief and close in.

 

Jeonghan can’t help the quiet moan he lets out when he finally feels Seungcheol’s mouth on him, the tension that had been building up inside his stomach dissipating until it makes way for the simple bliss he always feels when they’re together. Seungcheol knows his way around Jeonghan’s body like no one else, he’s seen all the growth and the changes, and noted everything that made Jeonghan fall apart, as hard as he tried to keep his composure over time.

 

He stops his ministrations to look up, mouth wet and shiny from where it had previously been, and he brings his hands to rest on his knees.

 

“Permission to touch, Sir?”

 

“Me, or yourself?” Jeonghan asks, lifting an eyebrow. He knows Seungcheol is probably already hard from their set-up, too deep in his subspace to mention it until now. He doesn’t know quite yet what he wants to do with that after he gets his own needs met.

 

“You, of course.” Seungcheol looks at his hands. “Only you, always.” his voice trails off in a sigh.

 

Jeonghan tilts his head back and lets out a laugh, the sweetness of it offset by his grip on Seuncheol’s hair. Of course.

 

It’s always been him, even back then, and still today. They fell into each other almost out of necessity, for warmth and understanding, but their love grew further than that, the trust between them growing stronger each day. The kind of trust that allows for these situations to take place, for Seungcheol to know that even now, with the tight leather around his neck and Jeonghan’s hands on his skull, Jeonghan would never hurt him. He only wants to pry him open, push him around until he breaks out of his fears and anxieties, even if it’s just for a moment. And Seungcheol was always thankful for it.

 

“Okay,” Jeonghan frees his hand and extends it towards Seungcheol, who eagerly gives his own. He guides Seungcheol’s hand to rest on his hip, bites on his lip when he feels the fingers digging into his skin. “Don’t go wandering.”

 

It’s enough for Seungcheol, it always is. His other hand comes up to mirror the movement, and then he’s back between Jeonghan’s legs, working harder than he feels he’s ever had.

 

His tongue finds a sensitive spot and Jeonghan nearly keels over, hips bucking down, his hands holding onto Seungcheol’s hair a little too tight for comfort as he tries to keep himself upright. He tries to hold himself back, hissing through his teeth when Seungcheol licks inside of him, feeling his muscles tense and his thigh tremble. It’s maddening, really, the effect Seungcheol has on him, how he can unravel all of Jeonghan’s hard work with the pressure of his lips. Even like this, with Seungcheol on his knees, where he should be completely powerless, he manages to find the points that make Jeonghan weak, almost as if he’s challenging him to assert his dominance.

 

Jeonghan yanks Seungcheol’s head up, away from the warmth where he’d settled, and Seungcheol looks at him with those big doe eyes that often betray how soft his heart really is.

His fingers find the strap of the choker again where it’s hanging from Seungcheol’s neck, thin like the thread they’re walking on. He pulls on it and Seungcheol comes with it, rolling his shoulders as he looks at Jeonghan through his bangs.

 

“Don’t get too comfortable.” Jeonghan says, wrapping the leather around his fingers, keeping Seungcheol as close as humanly possible without actually letting him duck back down where he wants to go. “You hear me?”

 

Seungcheol audibly gulps.

 

“Yes Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

 

“Better. Now, now, don’t leave the job half-done.”

 

He unwinds the strap, lets Seungcheol down again, but keeps it in his hand, tugging lightly here and there when he feels Seungcheol is getting too brave.

 

Complete control. What he always wanted over his own life.

 

Seungcheol flattens his tongue over Jeonghan’s clit, drags it on as long as he can go before being reminded by the shallow stretch of the leather on the skin of his neck. No teasing. So he works faster, hands still firmly on Jeonghan’s hips, half-holding on and half-grounding himself, knowing better than to move them even an inch. It would be too easy for Jeonghan to take all of this away from him and leave him on the ground with nothing but regrets and a raging erection.

 

(Not for long, not ever, but still, Seungcheol can’t afford the luxury to wait at this point.)

 

So he steadies himself with those hands, and works with his mouth, lips and tongue moving against every inch of Jeonghan he can reach.

 

Jeonghan feels the familiar quiver working from his thighs to his gut, the warm tingling sensation in his groin, and he, almost subconsciously, tightens his grip on the leather strap. It only serves to bring Seungcheol closer, something he didn’t even think was possible at this point, and Jeonghan can feel every movement of his lips, every ridge and bump of his tongue against him, the sensation overwhelming him for a moment too long. He wonders how Seungcheol always endures this without ever asking to be touched, when he knows it must be at least half as good for him, knows Seungcheol is probably staining his underwear with pre-come right now.

 

He doesn’t have the time to think about it before a hot flash runs from his inner thigh and he’s coming right there, Seungcheol’s mouth still on him, still working his hardest. He rides it out, practically bent over Seungcheol as he finally catches his breath, his knuckles white from his grip on the strap.

 

Jeonghan hears a muffled sound coming from below him, and realizes that he must have the same grip on Seungcheol’s hair than the does on the strap. Taking a few deeps breaths, he straightens up, detangling his hand and petting Seungcheol’s head in a silent apology.

 

He takes a moment to regain his composure, brushes his hair out of his sweaty forehead before looking down at where Seungcheol is, almost too still, the smile on his face and hooded eyes the only indicators that he’s still conscious.

 

“Seungcheol.” Jeonghan finally breathes out, the crack in his voice surprising him.

 

No response.

 

When Jeonghan dips his hand down to tilt Seungcheol’s chin up, he sees the expression on his face, his brow furrowed despite his satisfied smile, and realizes there’s still work to be done. Of course. Seungcheol is almost too obedient for his own good sometimes, and today was one of those, where he was so focused on doing well for Jeonghan that he’d completely forgotten his own needs. Now they were catching up to him, and it nearly broke Jeonghan out of his headspace to see his submissive like this.

 

“How… How did I do?” is not what Jeonghan expects to hear. And yet it’s exactly what Seungcheol says, shoulders finally relaxing, and he slouches over on himself, breathing hard.

 

Jeonghan’s hands moves from Seungcheol’s chin to his face, mapping out his strong jaw, his sharp cheekbones, his plump lips, taking it all in. He lets his fingers drag over Seungcheol’s bottom lip, and feels warmth settle in his chest when the man moans, so low it’s almost inaudible.

 

“You did good. So good.” he praises, appreciating the way Seungcheol’s eyes flutter shut at the words. It’s all he ever wants to hear.

 

“You worked hard, and now I think you deserve a reward after all.” Jeonghan coos, letting himself slip out of his previous mindset more and more, determined to make good on his promise to always take care of Seungcheol when they get like this. “Get on the bed, and get undressed.”

 

Seungcheol doesn’t need to be told twice. He rises to his feet best as he can, his legs obviously weak from kneeling for so long, and immediately falls back on the bed, crawling up to the pillows where he rests his head, thumbs already pulling his jeans down.

 

“Good,” Jeonghan guides him through it. “So good for me, as always.”

 

He climbs on the bed, sitting next to Seungcheol, who squirms as he blindly throws his shirt across the room and struggles to keep his hands off of himself.

His boxers are a mess, even as he’s still hard and longing for his own release, and Jeonghan almost takes pity on him, but he knows better than to do anything that makes Seungcheol feel less than what they’d always agree on.

 

“Tell me what you want.” Jeonghan asks as he strokes Seungcheol’s hair, echoing his earlier words.

 

“P- _please_ touch me.” the request comes in a broken voice, Seungcheol throwing an arm over his own eyes and trying to focus his breathing to take some of the edge off.

 

He’s still wearing the choker.

 

“Okay baby.”

 

If this was their first time, Jeonghan is pretty sure Seungcheol would have come right then and there when the pet name was uttered.

 

But it’s not, and his self-control and stamina are still some of Jeonghan’s favorite things about him. Instead, Seungcheol just shifts on the bed, lifts his hips ever so slightly in a silent repeat of his plea.

 

Jeonghan doesn’t have the heart to make him wait any longer. He grabs the lube from the bedside drawer, although he’s fairly sure there’s enough pre-come that it isn’t really needed, but he isn’t about to make this any harder on Seungcheol than it has to be.

 

Jeonghan inhales sharply before pulling Seungcheol’s boxers down and then pumping some lube into his hand, and when he finally reaches to wrap it around Seungcheol’s cock, he swears he can hear his lover cry.

 

His movements are slow and deliberate at first, trying to relieve some of the pressure he knows is sitting in Seungcheol’s gut. His hand finds an easy rhythm up and down, his write twisting and flicking ever so slightly each time in ways he knows Seungcheol likes, his choices confirmed by the unrelenting litany of moan falling from the other man’s lips. His arm is still over his eyes, his hand balled up in a fist, the other gripping at the sheets.

 

Jeonghan picks up the pace a little, varying in pressure when he gets to the base, drinking in Seungcheol's whimpers like ambrosia. He doesn't falter when Seungcheol cries out his name, or when he bucks his hips up in a desperate, impulsive attempt to take control and hurry them along. If Seungcheol is aching for release then Jeonghan will give it to him, sweeter than he could ever think possible, and he knows that. So Jeonghan chalks it all up to primal desire and keeps at it, thumbing over the head of Seungcheol's cock when his hand drags up, squeezing here and there to hear the way the other man whines, feel him thrust up into his hand.

 

“Jeonghan…” the name slips out too naturally, although they're still in their zone, and Seungcheol lifts his arms to gauge Jeonghan’s reaction, his eyes flooded with tears.

 

“Shh. I got you.” Jeonghan doesn't mind it so much. That's the name he chose for himself after all, and he wears it like a badge of honor.

 

His free hand reaches out to Seungcheol who eagerly takes it, linking their fingers together.

 

“You know I’ll always take care of you.”

 

Finally, he decides to work Seungcheol's cock faster, a little rougher, his hand straining over it until he feels the distinct twitch and hears a choked sob, the hand holding his closes in tighter, and Seungcheol spills all over Jeonghan’s hand and his own stomach.

 

Jeonghan throws his head back and heaves out a sigh of contentment, looking back down to find Seungcheol staring at him. He silently takes his hand out of Seungcheol’s grip to rummage through the drawer for the wet wipes, coming up triumphant, and cleans them both up nice and neat, letting his lover rest.

 

Seungcheol shifts, making a space Jeonghan decides is shaped like him. This is always the best part. He lies down with Seungcheol, propping himself up on his elbow so he can still get a good view of his handiwork.

 

The choker is still in place, leather sticking to Seungcheol's sweat-slicked skin, and Jeonghan fiddles with the strap, his fingers tracing the barely visible seam as they inch closer to the buckle. It comes off with a weird sound that makes them both laugh, and is quickly disposed off somewhere beside the bed.

 

“Thank you.” it’s a murmur, a mix of exhaustion and shyness, but Seungcheol says it with his eyes too, and Jeonghan knows those are only for him.

 

So he dips down, his lips meeting Seungcheol’s for the first time in what feels like an eternity. They find each other as easy as breathing, Jeonghan ghosting his knuckles over the curve of Seungcheol's jaw as they move together, tongues slipping against one another, searching for more. They're smiling when they pull apart, matching each other’s breathing.

 

“I should provoke you more often.” Seungcheol laughs, yelping when Jeonghan's hand darts towards his nipple to no doubt pinch it in retaliation, and they fall laughing in each other’s arms like it’s the first day.

 

“Don’t try your luck.” Jeonghan says, trying to put a menacing inflexion in his voice though the effect is lessened by the grin on his face.

 

He knows damn well Seungcheol will, again and again. He’s looking forward to it.

 

For now, he doesn’t think about it. There’s a time for everything, and now all Jeonghan wants is to hold Seungcheol close, to play with his hair as his breathing finally evens out and he comes down from the high of it all. Jeonghan traces a finger along where the choker used to be, slight red marks left where the pressure was when he pulled, and he hides his face in the crook of Seungcheol’s shoulder to laugh when he thinks of the face their makeup artist will probably make the next day. He can already hear the grumbling, and see Jihoon sighing as he drags a hand down his face and gives them a look of exaggerated fondness.

 

Tomorrow will be fun. But tomorrow can wait.

 

For now they have this, settled in each other’s arms, with only the beating of their hearts to care about as they hold each other, content. Jeonghan nestles closer to his lover, and Seungcheol looks at him, wordlessly but with a look in his eyes that says enough.

 

Jeonghan’s hand goes to rest on Seungcheol’s chest, feeling the faint pulse there, the soul of the man who has decided to give so much of himself to him. He thinks a silent thank you, to whatever forces of the universe allowed all of it to happen.

 

He’s never letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> hiya everyone! this is my first forray into seventeen fic (and kpop fic as a whole) and honestly i'm not exactly sure what that says about me, but i'll take it. i'm not entirely certain what happened & this kind of got away from me but, i'm still pretty happy i got it done.
> 
> inspired by [this video](https://twitter.com/forjeongcheolph/status/963165562628055041) which i'm pretty sure possessed my body and made me write this.
> 
> i hope y'all enjoyed, let me know!! i rlly want to talk to more people and what better to discuss than... whatever this is. 
> 
> see ya on [twitter](http://twitter.com/diaminghao) if you'd like (~=w=)~ !


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